


Giles Never Cried

by orphan_account



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: AU, After Season 7, Comfort/Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giles never cried. It was something Buffy had noticed over the years, he was strong, resourceful, unbelievably intelligent and British; He would never cry. Except that time he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giles Never Cried

Giles never cried. It was something Buffy had noticed over the years, he was strong, resourceful, unbelievably intelligent and British; He would never cry. Except that time he did.

Rain poured down to the earth and in the sky huge black clouds spread from horizon to horizon. Raindrops the size of grapes pelted anyone stupid enough to leave their homes and yet still Buffy slipped out of the house. England, she had decided was not like she had imagined. Beautiful fields and historical buildings were well and good, in the summer. The whole two weeks of it that swept England in July; there and gone in a fog of walks, camping, disposable barbeques and long weekends at the beach – where in typical British style the water was freezing cold and there were more stones than sand. She had decided that it would be best to head back to America. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful to Giles for bringing her here after the destruction of the hellmouth. More that she wanted to go home, back to America and its hot weather, sandy beaches and actual summer. That was how she found herself at the travel agents booking a single ticket back home. She was going to tell Giles eventually. She just had to wait for the right moment.

But time passed, as time was wont to do and the ‘right moment’ never came. He was always too happy for her to get him down or too sad for her to upset him more. They were always ‘doing something’ or ‘too busy’ and still the hands on the clock sped round, still the sun rose and set and rose once more and her departure date sped ever closer. Time passed, the days going faster and faster, everything blurring into one long day. Until Giles found the ticket.

He sat alone in his armchair watching the long fingers of rain trickle down the window; He was hunched over, one hand gripped his glass of brandy and the other clutched the ticket. When Buffy walked in he looked up, his eyes mournful. “So, you’re going are you?” He asked in a hoarse croak. “It was good of you to tell the old man before you took off into the night.”

“Giles. It’s not what you think.” Buffy started, edging forward.

“Then I must be a fool because what I think is that this is a plane ticket, am I right?”

Buffy nodded.

“Back to America?”

Buffy nodded.

“And you didn’t tell me about it?”

Once more Buffy nodded.

“Then it is exactly what I thought it was.” He said softly, tossing it at her feet and turning back to the window.

She had expected anger. A Ripperesque moment of madness where she could scream her true feelings at him in a moment of anger; something where she could deny her weakness after and they would never speak of it again, a moment they could both forget. But not this. This silence. The pained look on his face. The soft anger in his voice, more accusing and undeniable than any angry shout. She was not expecting that.

He stayed there all night, only moving to refill his glass from the bottle by his elbow. Buffy came downstairs in the morning and he was still sitting there, exactly the same except the bottle was empty and his fingers were steepled. Buffy had planned a walk for today. Something to get her out of the house but the rain still fell from the sky in sheets. She made lunch but it just congealed by his elbow. She tried to speak to him but he responded with silence. In the end she turned on the TV and watched panel shows until dark. Finally she fell asleep on the sofa.

She was woken in the early hours by a soft thud. Unmoving she opened her eyes a crack, just in time to see Giles lurch out the door, his drunkenness still evident. After a moment she slipped out after him, the hall was empty but the great oaken doors hung open. Buffy made her way to them and looked outside. The rain lashed through the opening and the wind stung her eyes but she stood riveted to the spot as she watched.

Giles stood in the garden, face upturned to the sky, his eyes closed. After a quiet moment alone with the elements he opened his eyes and roared. He roared at the gods. He roared at the demons and at the vampires. At the angels, even the humans. He roared in seven languages, dead and alive and every time a word passed his lips a fresh tear mingled with the rain on his face. After a moment he fell silent and toppled to his knees. Mud and rain seeped through his trousers, his head hung low and tears rolled freely down his cheeks. This was what he was now. A shadow of himself. A man who could hear the song of the wind but not understand it. He was born to guide her. His Slayer. And now she was leaving him. The fear of loneliness lay heavy in his stomach. The fear of rejection. And suddenly he was seventeen once more. The wind and the rain faded and he stood at the gates of his father’s home, a suitcase in hand. This was no place for boys who did not wish to follow their calling. This was no place for the cowards. And so he left.

Finally the rain stopped, the clouds cleared and a new day dawned. Buffy walked out to Giles, a dry towel in one hand and the shredded remains of her ticket in the other. When she reached him he was still crying but he went with her back into the house. Her house. Their house. Home. They never spoke of those few days again. But Buffy never flew back to America. After all, why would she? This was her home now. Giles had looked after her too long, now was her turn to look after Giles.


End file.
